


You Can Be King Again

by blueaurora



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Coming of Age, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Slice of Life, baseball player yeosang, but maybe angst, i think, maybe wooyoung is important here, mentions of character kissing someone without his consent, mentions of the other members, mingi has a twin brother, nothing bad happens, sansang growing up together, volleyball player san
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22378600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueaurora/pseuds/blueaurora
Summary: Yeosang doesn't want to admit it but he is falling in love under the same tree he met Choi San for the first time, where he also fell.(Yeosang and San grew up together).
Relationships: Choi San/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 38
Kudos: 259





	You Can Be King Again

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a prompt in where character A met character B because B just fell off a tree in front of A. Turned it in a 17K word fic of Yeosang going through life hand in hand with San. This is not my best work (I'm warning you) and I wrote it in like 48 hours (oh and it took me 6 years to proofread this but I'm pretty sure there's tons of mistakes but I want to post this already) but I've been dying to write about kid Yeosang.  
> I hope you enjoy this and can feel all bubbly inside as you go through fifteen years of sansang.  
> That's the ending I had in mind but I couldn't find the nice words to deliver it (suddenly I'm so bad at words).
> 
> Title is from lauren aquilina's king but it has nothing to do with the lyrics you'll see
> 
> Sana, if you're reading this, I love you <3

**_2005_ **

Yeosang meets San for the first time a week before his sixth birthday. 

It's hot, summer breeze waving his hair — that's been getting too long for the past months — and announcing a hotter season this year. Yeosang wishes he doesn't care, but he does, he never was a big fan of summers. He likes the cold, the warmth of the blankets engulfing him every morning, eating tangerines with his mom as they see the snow fall at the other side of the window — and the gloves! Of course he can't forget about the amazing _Iron Man_ gloves his dad gifted him for his last birthday.

He can't do any of that during the summer. It's sticky, and suffocating, always waking up in sweaty sheets and begging his mom for a cold shower first thing in the morning. On top of that, he can't wear his gloves and all his friends left already to spend the summer in another place but the countryside. 

Yeosang's parents love it here, so asking for Disney or just another place with a good air conditioner system is just useless. He is only six but understands that. 

He is lying outside, arms spread out in the soft grass, watching the clouds move and change shapes. First it's a sheep, then a small dinosaur, then a snake that slightly creeps away until there's nothing to see. He catches another cloud, bunny shaped.

Now with all his friends gone — even Seonghwa, who promised to spend his birthday with him — the only thing he can do is look how the clouds move for hours. At least, the grass is cold and comfy.

He believes he falls asleep at some point because one second he is giggling at the monkey shape of a cloud and the next one he is opening his eyes to a slightly orange sky with purple clouds. And next to him, there's a boy with his dark hair filled with leaves and a kite tangled around his waist. 

Yeosang lets out a little scream as the boy does it first, both hands planted on the grass — _Yeosang's grass_ — and lips pressed together in a tight line, watery eyes open wide, nose red. Bleeding a little. Yeosang notices how the boy is trying so hard to not cry, starting to take air after a few seconds, sitting on his butt and forgetting the nosebleed as he slowly blows air into his scratched knees. 

"It's okay, it's okay," he chants to himself in between every blow, tiny hands wiggling in the air, almost like he hasn't noticed Yeosang sitting there — he froze on the spot though, barely breathing. 

He wants to say something, but with a hand tightly pressed to his chest, nails slowly scratching the thin fabric of his spiderman shirt, he doesn't find a voice. And that's weird because Yeosang had never been shy. Quiet, that's for sure. He is the less loud of his friends and when they all go play ball at the park he is the only one that doesn't come home with a sore throat. But he likes it like that.

Right now, having a kid that somehow fell from the sky in front of him is making him go shy for the first time in his short life. Also, is the first time he sees such a kid. Messy dark hair, with a tangle of yellow hair resting over his forehead. Round cheeks and tiny body, tinier than Yeosang himself and he is the tiniest among his friends. 

The kid moves his eyes just in the middle of Yeosang's ' _Was he trying to fly on a kite and then he fell?'_ reflection, making him fidget on the spot. His fingers quickly grab a handful of grass, smell meeting his nostrils in a matter of seconds. "Oh," is the only thing he says at first, moving slowly on the grass, dragging his scratched knees until he is right in front of him. Yeosang lets out a small whine, raising both his hands as if he is just asking the flying kid to not hurt him. The kid tilts his head, observing him, before he is smiling brightly, giving him a hand. "Hi!" 

Yeosang looks at him, over his shoulder to see if his mother heard all that mess and came to rescue him, back at the kid when he felt abandoned by his own family. He frowns, pressing both his hands against his chest again. "Who are you?" 

"I'm Choi San!" 

The kid's voice — _Choi San's voice_ — sounds loud, energetic, almost as if he hadn't just fell from the sky and had a nosebleed. He smiles and Yeosang nods. 

"I'm Yeosang," he says because he is polite, but wants to run away as soon as San catches his hand in a big handshake. It's soft and small. 

"Nice to meet you, Yeosang!" 

"Hmm. Where did you come from?" He wonders, crawling back on the grass like a scared cat. His eyes follow San's movements as he stands up and cleans his pants — pursing his lips in pain when he touches his knee. The boy is wearing short blue pants and a shirt with the drawing of a dragon. Yeosang thinks that he is actually very cool. Maybe he owns a dragon and he was just riding it when he fell? Yeosang wants to meet the dragon.

San moves so he finally can get rid of the wire that keeps the kite with him, sad eyes finding out his body must have been fell over the red kite because it's now pretty messed up. 

"My kite got stuck on the tree," he explains, showing Yeosang the kite first and then pointing at the tree with a slow movement of his eyebrows. "I'm not good at climbing so I fell."

Yeosang nods. So he didn't fell from the sky neither he is a dragon rider, he just fell from the tree. Boring. He then squints at him, standing up, because that tree is owned by the lovely couple of grandparents that always give him cookies during Christmas, and that happens to be his close neighbours. 

"You shouldn't climb trees that aren't yours," Yeosang nags, imitating Seonghwa's voice when he eats all the cookies before break. "I'm gonna tell grandma Choi."

San giggles.

"Grandma Choi is _my_ grandma," he says, making Yeosang pout a little. "I came to spend the summer. So this is my tree now," he opens his arms to fly a little around the garden, one finger pointing at the tree then, frowning. "Bad tree! I'm your _king_! Don't let me fall!"

So that's the reason why it's the first time Yeosang sees him. Yeosang loves grandma Choi, and now it's making him a little sad she had been hiding a friend from him. Choi San looks as cool as the big guys, because instead of crying, he is smiling. If that happened to Yeosang he would be already begging his mother to pick him up and never put him down.

"What's happening here?" Yeosang flips his head and immediately runs towards his mom, which just appeared almost like magically summoned by Yeosang's thoughts. San follows him, dimples on display as he also gives his mother a handshake. "Oh, sweetie! What happened to you?" His mother kneels in front of him, both hands on his cheeks, observing the bruised nose.

"Hi! I'm Choi San," he introduces himself, totally ignoring her question. Showing his teeth with his smile, he points at Yeosang. "Yeosang's new friend!"

"Is that so?" San doesn't doubt in nodding energetically in between her hands. Yeosang quickly shakes his head in embarrassment, they haven't even had a proper talk. Who's this kid? If he's not the owner of a big cool dragon, then he doesn't want to be his friend. 

"We're not friends!" 

"We can be friends," San adds, giggling. 

Yeosang presses his lips together. Okay, maybe he is being dramatic, none of his friends own a dragon and Yeosang loves to hang out with them anyway. 

Even when he is still hiding behind his mother's leg, Choi San's words make him feel a little happy inside. A friend? For real? It took him so long for Seonghwa to become his friend and with this kid, it's seems so easy. And he was about to spend all summer alone. So who cares if he can't ride a dragon.

"He fell from the tree." 

Yeosang admits in a mumble.

"So that's what happened," his mother sighs, yet she smiles and gives San a hand. The other one wraps around Yeosang's shoulders, bringing him closer. "Sangie, why don't we take your new friend inside and heal him?"

San parts his lips in a perfect _'o',_ Yeosang doubting for a second before giving him his hand and walking him inside his house. San sits on the kitchen countertop while his mother goes upstairs to pick the first aid kit, swinging his legs in front of Yeosang, who sits on the floor and observes him.

"How old are you?" He asks.

"Five," San shows him his right hand, all fingers stretched in the air. "But I'm turning six soon."

"Me too!" Yeosang gets a little excited, closing his fists at both sides of his body. "My birthday is next week, we can celebrate it together!"

Having a friend with who he could share his birthday has been one of his biggest dreams since he found out Mingi and Minsu were born the same day, which means double everything: two cakes, a lot more of balloons and more ice creams flavours to choose between.

San's eyes get equally sparkly, fingers tightly wrapped on the counter's edge. 

"That's amazing! Can we have a cake with Iron Man's face on it?" 

"We can have two!" 

"Two of what?" His mother asks, placing the things next to San's little body. The boy puts both his hands over his thighs, raising his head up and closing his eyes obediently. Yeosang thinks he is super brave.

"Two cakes," Yeosang says, picking a chair and putting it next to the counter, stepping on it to be at San's height. "We are going to celebrate our birthdays together."

"That's sweet," his mother gently presses the cotton over his nose, San fidgeting on the spot. "I'm sorry, love. Sang, can you hold his hand?" 

Yeosang doesn't doubt this time, putting his hand on top of San's just like his father does when he falls and hurts his knees. San smiles. He doesn't flinch again as Yeosang's mother cleans the rest of his wounds, putting Yeosang's favourite spiderman bandaids on his knees. 

A couple minutes after Yeosang's mother calls her, grandma Choi appears to take San back. After the bandaids were on, Yeosang asked San if he wanted to play with him. Yeosang lend him one of his cardboard swords, not even talking, just meeting through a simple game.

San promises to come back next day to defeat him and crown himself as king. Yeosang's eyes chirp with electricity, silently promising protecting his throne at all cost.

—

In the end, San's birthday is one month after Yeosang's, but that's not an impediment for them to actually celebrate their birthdays together as they wanted. It's like celebrating his birthday twice, which ends up being better than having two cakes, because now he got two whole parties. On June 15th he eats strawberry flavoured ice cream and on July 10th he eats chocolate flavoured. Yeosang doesn't doubt on asking his mom to call the Song — enjoying holidays on Disney — so Yeosang can tell Mingi and Minsu he has a twin brother now, Mingi owing in amazement because if they join, they could be quadruplets. Yeosang doesn't know what does that mean, but if he can eat more ice cream, he is up to being quadruplets. 

Being friends with San is easier than he thought, and maybe it's because they meet when Yeosang was so sad about spending the summer — and his birthday — alone, or because San fell of a tree and was so nice to decide they were friends without even knowing their favorite Pokémon — San loves Eevee, having almost like ten different plushies of it in his room.

Yeosang cries a lot because he wants to sleep with San and his fluffy plushies forever. 

By the end of the summer, Yeosang can say from the deepest part of his tiny chest that Choi San became his best friend. More than the two annoying Song twins and best boy Park Seonghwa, that called his mother on his birthday to congratulate him and tell him about his amazing trip to Japan. Yeosang barely got to catch how beautiful Japan is, only thinking about running back to where San was swinging his sword.

They got matching crowns during Yeosang's birthday and matching shields on San's. The younger boy wrote their initials there, making promise Yeosang to be friends forever. Yeosang looks over his shield at night — crown still on his head, slightly falling over his forehead — and smiles at the _'King Yeosang'_ written there. It makes his heart swell.

Maybe he likes knight San better than dragon rider San. 

For all summer, they hang out together and not even once Yeosang gets defeated. So he remains being king, but he lets San enter his kingdom every afternoon to fly his new kite with him.

—

San was supposed to stay just for the summer as his parents got real busy with work on the city and his grandparents missed him, but with the arrival of the new scholar year Yeosang discovers him waiting outside of his front door in what seems to be the last day of an amazing summer. 

Yeosang is dressed in his navy shorts and white shirt, school emblem embroidered on his shirt pocket, matching San's. He can't help but get real excited way before even reaching San's position, jumping on the spot as his mother closes the door.

"Yeosang!" San calls, big smile on his face as he excitedly points at his shirt. "We're going to be classmates! Look at this cool shirt!" 

"For real?"

"Yeah!" 

Yeosang looks up to his mom, who is already giving him a sweet smirk, almost like she new everything beforehand. "Mom, now we can go together!" 

The idea makes his whole body shake with excitement, already moving his feet to where his friend is still standing, hand in hand with his grandma. "Let's go together to school! We can even pick Mingi and Minsu in our way!" 

His mother doesn't allow them to go alone though, but for a week they take turns. First she walks them while they run all over the place — San falls and scratches his knees again —, then grandma Choi walks them, sneaking cookies inside their bags and both boys bursting into tiny laughs, putting their pointing finger over their lips, promising to keep the secret — even when later at night Yeosang has to admit the crime as his mother finds his bag attacked by the squirrels attracted by the breadcrumbs he left there.

By the end of the week, they promise to follow the path and go straight to the school, puppy eyes and a lot of _please please please please please_ , so they leave them alone. Only if they also promise to hold hands the whole time — San doesn't think of it as a problem, neither does Yeosang.

**_2009_ **

Yeosang gets used to the most ridiculous things happening to him since he met San directly falling from a tree, and one of these things he starts doing as they grow is waking up at two in the morning because San is throwing rocks at his window. _Again._ He saw it in one movie they saw together one far weekend and even when Yeosang didn't find it that cool, San seemed to love it so much he kept on doing it for months. 

He frowns but wakes up anyway, dragging his feet across his room to rest his hands over the windowsill. He squints at the boy jumping on his backyard, almost like he is stretching at two in the morning. Weird. 

With the pass of the years, San's hair grew longer, almost reaching his shoulders by now, totally the opposite of Yeosang's short hair — he applied to the baseball team before summer started and his new teammates shaved his hair as a welcome prank. He promised to not leave his room for the whole summer, and maybe that's the reason San is standing there. They been hanging out inside his room for one month just because Yeosang hates his short hair with passion.

Yeosang can't help but click his tongue. If he's here just to make fun of his shaved head, then he will have to use his sword on him again — after four years, Yeosang is still king. Very proud of the kingdom he is ruling. 

"Come down," San whispers, both hands at the edges of his mouth. Yeosang only hears him because is so late at night the only thing they can hear is the leaves making a musical somewhere between the trees that surround the neighbourhood.

Yeosang shakes his hand. 

"Yeosang!" He purses his lips in fake anger. "I need to show you something!" 

With a sigh, Yeosang decides to come back and crash on the mattress. Is hot, like every summer, only a small fan spinning around to keep him fresh. He is sure he won't be able to go back to sleep now, so he puts on his shoes and moves in silence to the backyard, putting on a cap to hide his head. 

San is still smaller than him. _Cute._

"Okay," Yeosang puts his hands on his waist, observing how San is now hanging from one branch of his grandmother's tree. He swings his legs in the air, sticking his tongue at him. "Show me."

"Always so serious, Sangie," San hums, tree shaking with his movement. "What are you? Thirteen?"

Yeosang rolls his eyes. 

"San, is late. Please."

The boy shrugs and swings one more time before his hand slips and he is face planting the grass. For a moment, he remains silent. 

"Are you okay?" Yeosang rushes to kneel next to him, one hand on his shoulders. "You need to stop doing this! We already know this tree hates you."

San can't help but burst into laughter, making Yeosang really anxious about his voice being way too loud for the time that it is. San rolls over his body, both hands over his tummy, sound of laughter flowing through his parted lips. 

Over the years, San has fallen from that three an exact amount of ten times, and somehow he gets more and more immune to the pain with every fall. It's amazing how he hadn't broke a bone by now.

Yeosang has to cover San's mouth with his hands, trying to contain his giggles. 

"Shut up already!" He hisses. 

It takes San another entire minute of laughing until he is sitting down and throwing both his arms around Yeosang's body. They hug for a while, then San is running to the fence and coming with a pair of scissors. 

Yeosang opens his eyes wide, scared. 

"What are you doing?" 

"I've noticed you've been sad since you shaved your hair," San starts, sitting cross-legged in front of him, looking both cute and serious. "So I'm gonna cut my hair to match yours."

"No!" Yeosang gasps.

"Come on, we're always matching. Friends who match hair are bond to be best friends forever," San sticks his tongue again, eyes going up as his fingers pull his hair down, scissors ready. "Here we go."

"San, no!" 

Yeosang moves his hands in the air around him, perfectly knowing he can't attack a person that's holding a pair of scissors, his mother told him it could hurt that person instead of helping. For that, he can't help but witness how San messily chops his bangs right in front of him, lips parting in amazement while Yeosang feels his whole body get covered in a cold sweat. 

This is wrong.

—

San ends up with his hair being a short mess, both Yeosang's mother and San's grandma scolding San for doing such a thing _and_ also Yeosang for allowing him — Yeosang's attempts at excusing himself are thrown into the trash unheard. They aren't allowed to go out for the whole weekend. 

For San's 10th birthday, they take a picture together. Peace signs in the air, San holding his sword up with his other hand, both of them showing bright smiles.

And shaved heads. 

That's the first picture Yeosang puts in the wall of his room. 

  
  


_**2012** _

Yeosang's wall is filled with so many pictures by now that when he wants to put the picture of the baseball team winning the winter tournament he finds himself with no space at all.

He sighs, looking over the wall of memories he build up in just a couple years. There's pictures of his very first match, pictures of his holidays in Osaka, pictures with the twins and a lot of pictures of the five of them on Seonghwa's house — he really misses having sleepovers with them. But above all, there's San. Observing closely, almost all his wall is filled with pictures of San, since that one picture with shaved heads when they were ten, or the time he won another sword fight so hard he ended up cracking one tooth at eleven — with the following picture on the hospital and San crying —, or the time they started middle school back in September and took a pic in front of their old school to say goodbye to maths — they didn't know what was about to come for his necks. 

His mother added a little picture of them at seven years old fighting with the swords and another couple when they were nine and matching ghost costumes for Halloween. 

It's almost like watching San grow up on his wall, kinda beautiful. More now as they don't share a class anymore and they can only meet after school and in between short breaks. 

He sighs, placing the picture on his desk, almost dying from a heart arrest when he turns on his heels to see San's face pressed against his window. His scream dies on his throat as he walks over to open it. Is December, cold enough to be snowing, and San is there with a sword on his hand and a big wool cap hiding half his face.

He breathes over the window before Yeosang opens it, drawing a heart on the glass with his finger.

"What are you doing?" Yeosang demands, hand on his wild heart.

"I challenge you, my king," is San's greet, jumping inside the room and pointing at Yeosang with the sword. He stops for a little to shiver and put some warm breath over his gloves, pointing back at Yeosang then. He wonders how long can a cardboard sword last. It's been seven years already.

Yeosang sighs, pushing him aside.

"We're teens, San," he says, crossing his arms over his chest. "We are old to be playing with swords."

San smirks. "So you are scared of my power, huh?"

Yeosang frowns, eyeing the sword that he still keeps hanging behind his door. To be true, Yeosang is still proudly wearing the title of king — San is really bad at fighting — but as Seonghwa told him less than a year ago, he _can't be jumping around like a kid anymore._ And he's been thinking about it a lot, especially since San is still his neighbour — and especially since San is still the same kid he met when he was six years.

But for a moment, he forgets about everything and just hops on his bed to catch his sword and point it to San. The boy smiles back, ready to fight back. Maybe is just because he is a little competitive, but he won't ever, _ever_ , admit San is the king. Not if he's still alive.

"Careful with your words, peasant."

San takes the threat.

After an intense fight of twenty minutes, Yeosang claims himself king again, one elbow under San's chin, one hand tightly wrapped around the hand he is using to hold the sword. San giggles behind his body.

"What do you have to say now, huh?" Yeosang raises an eyebrow, applying more pressure into his hold. 

"Okay, okay, I surrender," San lets go of the sword, and just then Yeosang moves, sword on his shoulder, trying to strike the most epic pose he can think off. San claps from the floor, speaking in a high pitched voice, "so cool, our king!" 

"Thank you," Yeosang places the sword on the table before pulling San up, pinching one of his cheek. 

"Do you want to make a snowman?" San runs again to the window. "I bet there's enough snow to make a whole army. To destroy you!" 

"And you think I'd help you to topple me?"

"That's what friends do!"

To be true, Yeosang decided years ago that he'd do anything for Choi San. Anything that makes him happy, makes Yeosang happy. Maybe his whole purpose in life is make San feel just a smidgen of the happiness he brought to his body that hot summer afternoon of 2005. 

"I'm sorry, Sani," yet, he excuses himself. "I have a lot of homework to do."

Middle school is hard, but being on the top class is even higher. Yeosang never really believed he was smart enough to be considered a top class kid, yet here he is, taking a lot of extra classes like advanced english and algebra. Just his first year and he is already drowning in homework and baseball practice. 

San blinks in front of him, eyes fixed on his face. 

It always make Yeosang wonder, _what's going on inside Choi San's head_? Because the boy looks clueless about everything, yet so confident about what he does. It's amazing. 

"Okay, I'll come back later when you're free," he doesn't fight back. San never fights when Yeosang decides to do homework or just wanting to stay inside after a long day running in circles. That's nice of him. "I'll bring tangerines."

"Deal!" Yeosang can feel his mouth water in anticipation. 

San climbs up the window again, looking over his shoulder one more time before smirking and claiming: "One day, I'll take over your title, _my king!"_

He jumps so easily, landing gracefully on the snow that covers Yeosang's backyard. When Yeosang runs to the window to close it — watching how he runs, jumps to hang from the tree, and land again on his own backyard, waving at him with a big smile — he can't help but feel warm like it's not December but June again. 

It blooms on his heart and sets his whole body on fire. Hoping he never loses a fight against San, having him around for all his life. 

_**2013** _

Puberty becomes a burden when Mingi gets a boyfriend from his Japanese Culture club — and for what Yeosang knows, there's not a lot of people inside that club so it shouldn't be such a big deal. 

But it is. 

Yeosang is almost fourteen and the whole world seems to be falling in love or catching interest in what the others do. His own club teammates, that used to run away from the girls and pull from their hair are now running _behind_ them and talking about the length of their skirts. 

Yeosang is so grossed. 

The least he needed was for Mingi to appear in class one morning drooling and walking around with rose cheeks and hearts in his eyes.

"I can't stand your brother," Yeosang sighs during lunch, sitting in front of Minsu. San is sitting next to him, silently enjoying his sandwich. "How you do it? Like, you live with him, how aren't you dead already? He is so gross."

The boy frowns, pointing at him with his fork.

"First of all, Yeosang, we've been friends since we were three, I can't believe you still aren't able to realise who you are talking to," he says, Yeosang painfully realizing it was Mingi the one sitting in front of him. San finally bursting in laugh, almost choking with his fun, receiving a kick under the table from Yeosang. "Second, I am not gross. You are just love constipated."

"I am not, I'm fourteen. The only thing that we should worry us is which Avenger is our favourite. Iron Man still rocks," he says, receiving a nod from San. "And you've been talking about Yunho like you're going to marry him," he pinpoints in a mumble.

"Maybe I do," Mingi hums, elbowing San to assert his statement. "San, you are on my side, right? You think this is totally normal."

Both boys flip their heads to the boy that's still munching, cheeks filled with food. He gulps, feeling a little awkward. 

"I'm on Iron Man's side, sorry."

"Not that!" Mingi exclaims, punching his shoulder. "About love, San, _love_." 

"Well, love is weird," he shrugs. "If you like someone, maybe you get married in the future. Maybe you never see that person again. Who knows?"

He goes back to his sandwich, making Mingi press his forehead over the table.

"No wonder you two are best friends," Mingi sighs. 

Later on the same day, San climbs up his room again just to lie on Yesaong's bed to play Mario Kart as Yeosang finish his homework. 

They don't talk a lot, mostly because Yeosang likes calmness to study — or that's what he makes San believe. He's been thinking about the conversation they had during lunch a lot. Munching on his pencil, he decides he can't go one more second without asking it.

He turns on the chair, rolling over the bed and hitting San on the leg. The boy raises both eyebrows at him, taking off his earphones and pausing the game. 

"Is it too loud?"

"No, chill," Yeosang shakes his head, changing the pencil for his thumb and chewing on it for a while. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Hmm, okay," San sits up on bed, putting his phone aside. "Hit me up."

Yeosang fills his lungs with air, eyes falling deep into San's own. Always big and sparkly, making Yeosang warm inside. 

"You think that for real? What you told Mingi."

"About Iron Man?"

Yeosang groans. "About marrying someone. Or not even seeing them again."

"Oh," San remains in silence for the longest in their life together. He crosses his legs on the bed and looks down to his hands, fingers playing for a while before he speaks again. Yeosang observes him, not sure about what the expression that crosses his face means. "Hmm, I think the future is uncertain. Life is, actually."

San lets out a big sigh, tilting his head to his side, beautiful smile dancing on his lips and making Yeosang's heart stutter inside his chest just with that look. He takes a hand to the place where he can feel the unsteady movement under his fingers and for a moment he thinks he is dying.

"You don't know what could happen tomorrow," San keeps on going just to fall in dead silence after that. 

The air keeps coming in stuttering waves through his parted lips, nerves coming for his neck as the silence floats around the room for more than one minute — it's weird for San to remain so calm, eyeing him and blinking repeatedly, fingers moving all the way from his lap to scratch the skin of his nape.

Yeosang lets the warm — almost annoying — air flow through his nose one more time until he is blurting with a shaky voice. "Will we still be friends in the future?"

San opens his eyes big as if he had an epiphany, immediately bursting into the most beautiful sound Yeosang had ever heard: his giggles. 

"That's what's scaring you?" San crawls over the mattress to reach his position, hands squishing his cheeks. Yeosang groans yet he doesn't try to get away from him — moreover, he looks very happy to be wrapped in so lovely hands. 

"Not scaring me," he adds after a while, too embarrassed to even look at him in the eye. "It's just… Bothering me?"

"Why, why, why?" San pokes his cheek.

"Hmm. I don't know, I just like being with you."

The words slip through his lips way before he can even think of what's he's saying. But that doesn't seem to be an impediment for San to jump over the chair and hug him, spinning around until they hit the wall and fall. As Yeosang hits his head with the floor, one of San's elbows digging on his stomach, he wonders once again how can this boy be always falling off things all the time.

"Don't worry, Sangie. We'll be always, _always,_ together." 

Yeosang moves beneath him, San's face so close it makes his heart have a hard time trying to keep a normal pace, swinging from fast to faster and giving him a weird pain as he looks how San's dimples pop on his full cheeks. It must be the elbow on his stomach for sure.

He can't breathe.

"How are you so sure?"

San raises his pinky, catching Yeosang's in a promise he whispers between his parted lips.

"I don't have intentions of leaving your side until I can take your king title."

Yeosang is caught up by surprise, one of his knees going up and hitting San in a very, _very_ compromising part. The boy squeals in front of him, falling to his side.

"I'm sorry!" 

"King's a _bitch_."

Yeosang moves on the floor trying to make the pain less noticeable, but the only thing he is able to do is panic until San is breathing again and bursting into laugh. It's enough to make Yeosang laugh along with him, sealing their promise with _another promise_ of always fighting with all his heart to keep his title.

It makes him feel a little better, but once night arrives and he lies in bed alone, he finds sleeping a really difficult task. And maybe-maybe not it has to do something with the fresh smell of San's shampoo that's still splattered all over his pillow. 

_**2015** _

Puberty starts becoming a horrible way to swing to when Mingi starts talking about the hot body line of Yunho and how he wishes he could choke him with those legs of his. Yeosang has been avoiding these type of conversations for two years now, only putting effort and attention on the million and something pimples that have decided to make a home on his skin and the horrible mustache that's growing slower than it really needs to. 

After stealing his mother's makeup and realizing they don't share the same foundation tone, he decides to take a grumpy San along with him to buy his very first makeup kit.

"Do you think I should buy this sparkly thing?" He asks San, cheeks painted in a beautiful shade of pink as he tries to not catch the attention of the ladies working there, too embarrassed to tell them he just want to cover the horrible face of puberty. "I think it will look good on me, don't you think so? San?" 

The boy crosses his arms, giving him his back. Yeosang sighs again, trying his best to not smack him on the face — he's been acting like that since he jumped over the fence to knock on his door and ask him to go with him to the mall, totally leaving him behind with his bike.

"Come on," he sighs, stomping his foot on the floor for a few seconds. "Can you at least tell me why are you so mad?"

San refuses to speak, pouting.

"Baby."

"I'm not a baby!" He groans.

"Of course you are," Yeosang chuckles, getting scared of his own words because it's the end of June and there's only twelve more days until San's sixteenth birthday. It's been ten years since they met, and even when until fourteen San remained the smaller of the two of them, everything changed when he entered the volleyball team at the end of the year and he grow… Bigger. 

Yeosang puts the makeup down and then a hand over San's shoulder, turning him around to face him. 

"Tell me what happens."

San looks at him with a rancorous expression, curving his lips down before blurting at him, "you don't need makeup, Sangie."

Yeosang blinks.

"What?"

"You don't need makeup," he repeats, stronger this time. Yeosang blinks again, putting in a confused expression. "You look just fine like this, plus the makeup will cover your birthmark."

"My birthmark?"

Yeosang takes a hand to his face, fingers slightly touching the birthmark that has been keeping him company for all his life and that scared the shit out of San the day after they meet and he saw him under the sunlight and thought he also fell from the tree. 

"Yeah. It's pretty," San babbles, turning around again. "If you cover it, I'll be mad." 

Yeosang really hates the acne, but his trembling heart and immediate smile, raising the edges of his mouth in just a second, are enough for him to bow at the lady on the entry and hang over San's arms with the same strength the boy hangs from his grandma's tree. 

But they don't fall.

So that's it, Yeosang stops using makeup and takes a lot of effort to clean his skin every night, drink tons of water and give up chocolate, french fries and literally everything that's somehow tasty.

Until today, celebrating San's sixteenth birthday, everyone sitting in a circle in the furthest corner of the backyard, water bottles filled with some liquor Mingi and Minsu bought with their fake ids. Teenager parties aren't as funny as Yeosang thought they would be. Alcohol and playing dumb games on Mingi's phone, having to take a shot with everything they have done — Yeosang finds out two things in one night: vodka tastes horrible, burning his throat with just a single shot and he hasn't done a thing in his sixteen years of life meanwhile Seonghwa has stolen his dad's car and the evil twins have done a long, _long_ list of illegal things.

San has done a few things, but he's also just drinking from time to time because he's thirsty so Yeosang isn't sure if he really went to school without underwear or not — Yeosang believes he did.

The _Never have I ever_ game ends when they run out of alcohol — which is really a relief because Minsu threw up twice and Seonghwa is already starting to take off his shoes and asking google where's the nearest pool. That leads to Yeosang's perdition: talking about Yunho's body.

Talking about what turns them on, basically. 

It's been two years of not understanding puberty, and maybe that's a collateral effect of puberty because he is a mess lately and the fights with his mother are growing bigger and bigger over the bare minimum like putting onion on his rice, but finally he starts sweating in front of Choi San.

San who applied for the volleyball team. San who has been working out a lot recently. San that, even when Yeosang has been playing baseball for six years, has grown up bigger, and more muscular than him. He finds himself admiring the muscles of his back when they are lying in bed just chatting about how hard junior year is, eyes getting lost in the length of his legs when they are riding their bikes late at night. Not to talk about how difficult is going to swim with him.

Stupid puberty _and stupid Choi San._

"Yeosang," Mingi puts an arm over his shoulder, purring on his ear, breath reeking of alcohol, "if you had to fuck someone from school, it would be me, right?"

Yeosang rolls his eyes, pushing him a little. He only knows it's Mingi because Minsu has been sleeping for a while now. His eyes immediately search for San, hands on his knees, bouncing a little — Seonghwa is following him, both of them slowly starting a pace that makes them smile like idiots. Rose cheeks, they're both drunk. Also, waiting for him to reply. 

He bites his tongue, shaking his head.

"I need to take some air."

"We are in the air, Yeosang!" Mingi says way louder than it needs to be. They laugh as he moves to the other side of the backyard, fist in his mouth.

He is shaking. And of course it has nothing to do with the fact that, out of every single person living in this small village, out of every girl that has come into the baseball team gatherings to bring them homemade cookies and out of every one that has handed him chocolates on Valentine's days for the past two years, the only person that came to his mind, was Choi San.

His best friend.

The boy he grew up with.

Finally he understands why his heart has been jumping like crazy every time they snuggled together.

"Standing under the tree we first met, huh?"

Yeosang jumps, taking a shaking hand to his chest and almost sinking on the grass underneath his feet when San appears behind him. He wishes it happened for real, because now he has to stand in front of him and San grew slightly taller, too — or maybe is just Yeosang bending over because he is scared? He doesn't know. But he doesn't want to be here either. 

"Hmm, the tree," Yeosang wheezes.

"Are you okay?" San bends a little, hands on his pockets. "You look drunk. With your cheeks."

"You are the drunk one, San," Yeosang says back, back pressed against the fence that separates their houses. 

San chuckles a little, stretching his arms above his head as if he's trying to prove he's not that drunk even when he has sleepy eyes and that dumb smile already curling on his lips.

"You wanna fight?" San suddenly says, making Yeosang frown in confusion.

"Excuse me?"

"I wanna fight, I wanna be _king_ ," San mumbles, adopting a fighting position almost immediately. "Fight me, king."

Yeosang really wants to go home and maybe do something he would regret in the morning — like, _a lot of regret_ — but he also wants to move one step forward and fight him with all his strength like they used to do. 

He sighs, crossing his arms.

"We don't have our swords." 

"Let's pretend."

"Sani, we don't really have to fight," he bites his tongue, eyeing the group of friends that's still laughing over some story Seonghwa is telling now. "What if I tuck you to bed?"

"Scared of losing?" San smirks.

That makes Yeosang roll his eyes as well with the sleeves of his thin sweater, which seemed a good idea back then at the start of the night but now is just way too suffocating. 

"Okay, if that's what you want."

San smiles, ready to take him, and Yeosang decides that accepting everything that comes from the mouth of the boy that fell of a tree ten years ago has become his job — and he is mastering on it.

Obviously, he wins.

As he presses a hand onto San's chest, he realises for the first time how nice it feels to the touch. Muscles tensing and moving up with San's shaky giggles. Looking down at the boy laughing like a kid underneath his body only takes him back to the past when he was lying on the grass and he fell out of nowhere. 

Yeosang thinks he has also fallen out of nowhere.

"Happy 10th anniversary, King," San whispers.

Falling without a destination, but neither knowing what awaits for him in the end.

—

Yeosang regrets a lot of things in the morning, eyes wide open as he looks at the white ceiling of his room, sweaty sheets surrounding him and the cold breeze of the fan kissing his hot skin, mind numb. For the first time in years, he experiences how his body aches by the lack of contact. Contact he didn't even know he needed until now.

With the pass of weeks, he discovers his body in a way he doesn't really feels proud of, taking more hours than needed inside the bathroom. San's face dancing around his mind every time.

Not proud at all.

The start of August brings back baseball practice and Yeosang gets mad at the back muscles kink he started developing over the summer, eyes not missing a single movement of his teammates as they change. He hides his face behind the red cap, matching with the red that's beed painting his cheeks since he saw Choi Jongho's arm muscles and that lead him to remember Choi San's fucking arm muscles.

He thinks he is starting to hate puberty. 

Practice goes smoothly even though, running around making his head less dizzy and the way his body starts working up being enough to keep him out of all the _Choi San body proportions are fucking crazy how in the world did he get wide shoulders but such a tiny waist?_ bullshit. 

"Hey, Kang," Jung Wooyoung comes jogging towards him, taking off his cap to wipe of the sweet of his forehead with the back of his hand. "Wanna help me for a while?" 

Wooyoung is the team's ace, a great pitcher — a guy with a pretty smile if Yeosang has to be true to his new self. They aren't friends at all, just teammates since they started middle school, nothing actually interesting to chat about aside from the amount of calculus homework Yeosang has to do and the weird obsession Wooyoung has for baseball anime.

"Hmm, yeah. Why not."

Helping Wooyoung is easy. He just has to avoid hitting the ball and that will make him smile with his nose pointing the sky. Which isn't easy is keeping his thoughts away as the only thing he has in front of him is Wooyoung and the sky, clouds shaped in weird things again — _like freaking Choi San again._

"C'mon Kang!" Wooyoung screams from the mound, loud and annoying. "You're not trying enough! Do you think our rivals will just avoid the ball? I'm trying to get better!" 

Yeosang frowns, visibly attacked by the strong tone Wooyoung is using with him when they aren't even friends. He isn't even a catcher — Jongho likes to skip a lot of practice but, honestly, Yeosang thanks the sky he is not here right now — and he is sure he is older by four months at least, he should be more respectful.

When the ball comes his way again, he wraps his hands tightly around the bat, hitting it with ease, grimacing at him and throwing the bat away just like a dramatic mic drop.

Wooyoung weighs his body over his right leg, smug smile edging his mouth. "That's not cool, Kang."

Yeosang really wants to stick his middle finger at him. But he doesn't. 

—

Practice ends when Yeosang decides he needs to take a shower. But he can't do it right here, so he shoves all his things back into the bag and walks around still in his sweaty uniform. 

Everything is okay until he finds San. Obviously, he is also practicing. 

Yeosang wants to die.

"Sangie!" The boy raises both his arms in the air, running in his direction to pull him into the biggest hug, spinning a little, kinda romantic. Bodies rubbing together. Not what Yeosang needs right now. "You smell."

"Oh, thanks," Yeosang clicks his tongue, eyes falling on San's face first. His hair is long again, tied up in a bun that leaves a little strands out to frame his face. He goes down, San is wearing the uniform as well. What they don't tell you about volleyball players is that they like to show a lot of leg. Like, _a lot_. "Why are you still wearing your uniform?"

"I like to show my legs," San tells from the top of his lungs like it's nothing, doing the most to look cool in front of Yeosang as he shows up his thigh engulfed in these tight black shorts. "What about you?"

Yeosang needs a second. 

"I don't like the school's showers."

_Keep walking, Yeosang, just don't look at him. He is your best friend, what you are thinking is wrong, if he finds out he will get so gros–oh, great, now he is looking at me, say something, he will start suspecting._

"Sang, let's eat some pork belly." San says instead, taking Yeosang by surprise. 

"Hmm?"

"Post practice dinner," San bounces, hitting his shoulder with his. "We should make it a tradition."

"We should take a shower," Yeosang retorts.

"Together?"

Yeosang chokes on air, feet scratching the asphalt as he abruptly stops walking. Here it is again, heart doing the most to dig a hole on his chest and leave him to die in the middle of the orange night.

"You're saying weird things."

San just laughs. 

They walk side by side as the sky erupts until the dark violet is taking a place on top of their heads and San is walking him right to the door. Then he runs to the backyard and, instead of entering through the door, he jumps over the fence.

(Maybe, he falls on his face, too).

—

They end up turning it into one big tradition and when Yeosang wins his very first high school tournament against one of the biggest schools of Seoul, San puts all his savings over the table and pays for his dinner.

Yeosang not only chews on the pork belly but also his heart. 

_**2016** _

Seventeen is not better than sixteen like Seonghwa claimed. Not only because they're just one month away from starting senior year, neither because Yeosang finally became a regular on the team, which means more practice but because Yeosang finally adds love into his messy _teen_ agenda.

He talks with his mother one day cleaning some vegetables for dinner.

"How did you know you loved dad?"

His mother arches a brow, looking at him in utterly confusion after all the fighting preteen Yeosang started in the past. She keeps on chopping some tomatoes, voice filled with curiosity. 

"Why the sudden curiosity?"

Yeosang shrugs. "I was just wondering," he bites his tongue because he can't, in any way, tell his mother he _might be or maybe not because he is just my best friend_ in love with Choi San. She saw them grow up, brought them sandwiches when they were so focused playing League of Legends to even stop to eat and even took them to see The Avengers, a day where they couldn't stop holding hands. They're friends. So he just makes up a shitty excuse. "Mingi has been dating Yunho for like, hmm, a lot."

(Three years).

He doesn't remember exactly when did Yunho appeared into the picture. By now, they are totally married and with four kids being only seventeen. But that doesn't even bother Yeosang, Yunho wasn't Mingi's childhood friend, they met on the Japanese Culture club. Yeosang was Mingi's childhood friends but the only way Yeosang wants to get close to kiss him is if he was dying and that was the only way to stay alive — to kiss San, because he really has been fantasizing about doing that the whole summer.

Unwittingly of him, he thought that he was getting better at the _fuck, he is hot_ phase just to find himself eyeing his lips a lot when they were sharing an ice cream. 

"Do you think Mingi will marry Yunho?" He keeps on going, lazily cleaning the same cabbage for another solid minute. 

"Who knows," she shrugs, finally moving his hand to ask for the cabbage. "Falling in love is something I don't quite understand yet, and maybe when I was young I'd claim to the sky that I'd die for your dad when now I'm just begging him to stop throwing his underwear in the wrong casket."

She laughs, making Yeosang wrinkle his nose, allowing his fingers to play with the water for a while. 

"But, even after thirty years, I still love him like the very first day. You know why?"

"You have me?" Yeosang wonders.

"Well, that's an amazing extra, even when you lost all your cuteness, Mr. Grumpy Cat," Yeosang rolls his eyes, handing her another vegetable. "But the real reason is because your father is not only my lover. He is my best friend, my confident, my judge and my snack buddy. He is the only one that knows all my flaws, and the only one that still brings me flowers even after that. And I know his, still loving him. That's love. I think if Mingi and Yunho can see that, they'll get married someday."

Yeosang stops listening at some point, heart stuttering again inside his chest, so loud it finds his ears and makes him a little dizzy. 

"You can fall in love with your best friend?" His voice sounds small, almost like the words are getting stuck on his throat. 

His mother chuckles. "There's something you want to tell me, Sang?" 

She looks at him with big eyes and a smile, wiggling the knife at him. The excitement — and maybe the knowledge only a mother has — sparks on her eyes, sending a electric shot down Yeosang's spine. He shakes his head, closing the tap and drying his hands on his shorts.

"No," he doesn't sounds sure. "I'm— I'm gonna go— _oh fuck_ sorry—" he trips with his own feet, hands on his elbow. "I need to go to pee."

His mother hums, smile still edging the corners of her mouth. 

"You know you can trust me!" She says as Yeosang enters his room and closes the door at his back.

The summer is hot again, but the warmth he is feeling has nothing to do with the countryside and his hot August weather. Because is his heart the one bumping more blood than necessary, and is Choi San the one floating around his mind.

He covers his mouth with a hand, eyes fixed on the wall in front of him.

_San._

San has been with him for more than ten years, San is his best friend and the only one that knows he is dead scared of spiders, pinky promising him to not hurt the spiders but to take them away if they were bothering him. The only one who knows that he still sleeps with the plushie San gifted him for his eight birthday. The only one who didn't call him weird because he wasn't interested in girls at fourteen — _what San doesn't know yet is that, surprise, he likes dudes._

San is the only one that still plays with him like they're six, the only one that isn't scared of laughing out loud because Yeosang got a ladybug on his hair and run into a wall trying to get rid of it just two weeks ago. The only one with who Yeosang can spend hours without saying a word, just watching the sky change, not feeling awkward at all.

Yeosang is in love with his best friend. 

—

With the sun burning his shoulders and Jung Wooyoung crouched down next to him as he swings, Yeosang keeps on repeating the conversation he had with his mother two days ago. 

It doesn't matter the way he decides to take, he always reaches the same dead end. And he can't stop being in love with Choi San because he fell from the sky when he most needed him, the world gave San to him. 

But he is not so sure about San and how he sees the world, always so mysterious with his feelings. Yeosang knows he loves his grandparents the most, that he sees his parents every month and loves them tons, that Yeosang is his favorite friend and Mingi the one he can tell all his jokes to. But he doesn't know more.

Not even if San is going through the _Am I gay or I just like San_? phase like him. Not even if San looks at him like more than a friend. And that's has been bugging him for these two days, because for the twins dating was so easy and Seonghwa isn't scared to admit he likes both girls and boys.

"Kang, be careful."

Yeosang just listens to Wooyoung's vague warning when the ball is hitting his stomach and bending his body in half. Luckily for him, they weren't taking practice way too serious or that would have killed him for sure. Still, the pain hits him like whiplash, falling over Wooyoung who quickly catches him with tender arms.

"Told you."

"That's not gonna help me," he mutters under his breath, both hands on his stomach.

The pitcher screams that he is sorry, immediately receiving a scream from Jongho. Beneath him, Wooyoung giggles a little, hands slowly patting Yeosang's back in what he wants to believe is a reassuring way. He allows himself to rest over his body for a while, until he is not seeing everything black.

"For that you're the only pitcher I like," he mumbles.

"Oh? You like me? That's embarrassing!" Wooyoung giggles again, finally pressing his fingers over his shoulders to look at him in the eye. Wooyoung has a nice face, short hair and a cute mole under his eye. He is always smiling at Yeosang and asking him for favours, he is kinda nice. Thinking about it — trying to get away with pain —, Wooyoung is his type. But he doesn't feel different with him, nothing more than the _He's got a nice face and personality_. Not like San. "You okay?"

Yeosang nods after taking a big mouthful of air, standing up again and excusing himself.

"I'm going to the infirmary."

"Want me to go with you?" Wooyoung asks.

Yeosang waves a hand at his back, already heading towards the infirmary. He wants to rest and maybe sleep for a while without thinking weird things. "I'm fine."

To find the infirmary, he has to walk past the library, so he does it in silence, eyes curious looking at the amount of people that's studying even when it's still August.

Certain person catches his eye.

"San?"

The boy is resting his head over the windowsill, laying over his arms, sun making his face glow and the slightly breeze waving his hair. Yeosang stops in front of the window, surely looking horrible in his dirty uniform and hair dripping wet under the cap.

San takes a finger to his mouth, smile flowing like the water of a river, asking him to stay in silence. Yeosang gets closer, until he is face to face with him. 

"What are you doing here?" He asks in a whisper. 

"Studying."

"In August?"

"I failed maths," San sighs, Yeosang remembers he told him that at the beginning of the summer. "The teacher sent me a lot of homework but I've been busy."

They've been all summer swinging from playing video games on Yeosang's room to riding their bikes until the lake to swim together. Yeosang feels a little guilty, if he has to be honest. 

"What are _you_ doing here?" San gets curious.

"Practice," he says, avoiding the _I got hit on the stomach because I couldn't stop thinking about you_ and just resting it importance with a hand movement. "I was going to get a water bottle."

"Don't you have water machines on the field?"

"It's broken," Yeosang can feel the way his heart starts growing stupid again so it's time to just run away, baby steps creating a dusty cloud around his feet. "I'm gotta go now. Good luck studying!"

"Yeosang," San calls one more time just when he is ready to sprint his way to the furthest corner in the school and hide there for the rest of life. The boy has changed his position, head resting now on one of his hands, tired eyes glowing with the sunlight splattered on his face. Yeosang waits, frozen on the spot, thinking he looks beautiful right now. "I _love_ you."

The words come with a shy smile, mouth not curving at all, kind of sad if he analyses it on detail. But Yeosang doesn't do that, cheeks exploding in color before he is running away. 

**_2017_ **

It takes Yeosang five months to stop acting weird around San, the same amount of time he's been in love with him — or maybe it all started back then when they were sixteen, Yeosang doesn't know. 

January welcomes them with a huge snow, San knocking on his window early on Saturday to attack the Song twins house in what he calls a Snow Revenge — Mingi ate San's sandwich last week. Yeosang puts in his scarf and gloves and slides through the roof, landing softly on the thick snow layer that covers his backyard without double thinking things again. 

"Kang Yeosang I've told you a thousand times to use the door like a normal person!" He hears his mother scream, but he is already running away, hand in hand with San.

They haven't talked about what San told him that summer day when he looked like the son of the sun. And even when Yeosang starts daydreaming about creating a life with him every night, he doesn't let that sink into his heart because San loves him. And he loves San. 

Like the _friends_ they are.

San's attack plan just consists in picking stressed first year college student Seonghwa up — that totally thanks them for taking him out of his house because he is going crazy thanks to finals — and create thousands of snowballs on the Song's backyard without being noticed, just to crash them into Mingi's window then.

As San gets stuck with the two giants twins, Yeosang doesn't doubt on going and patting Seonghwa on the back. College seems tiring and he is going to be exactly like that in just a couple months. He tries to start a nice _It's been weeks, how are you? Any college advice?_ and wait for the not so surprising _Just kill me, Yeosang,_ when Seonghwa decides to take another way as he makes a tiny snowman. 

"Have you told San?" He asks. Straight to Yeosang's heart. 

"What are you talking about?"

Seonghwa doesn't raise his head from the snow, moving so slowly Yeosang is starting to wonder how many hours did he sleep last night.

"About the scholarship they gave you," Seonghwa starts, eyeing him then, "to study in America."

No, this is really piercing his heart now.

It happened just by the end of December, when they won another tournament, a day after the big dinner San paid for him. The coach called both Wooyoung and Yeosang into his office, giving them the big news.

They liked how they played. They could become professional. They want to give them a scholarship to play in one of the biggest schools in America. 

Starting with the beginning of the summer, just a few days after his birthday.

Yeosang shakes his head. Contrary to Wooyoung, who accepted the offer right away, Yeosang asked them for some time to talk about it with his parents — they were so happy both of them cried tears of happiness —, because he just needs time to think. 

They're seniors, graduating high school means leaving the village to start college or stay to work in the family business. He talked with San about it: they're going to Seoul together, sharing an apartment, finally living together under the same roof. Sticking together forever like they promised years ago.

He needs to think about what does he want for real. 

And for that, he hasn't been able to tell San yet. Because he knows he is going to tell him to choose America, to follow that big opportunity, and maybe Yeosang is too scared of admitting his feelings for him to just choose him over the scholarship. He loves baseball, it's been eight years since he found his dream.

But it's been almost twelve years since he met San.

"I will tell him," Yeosang mumbles, eyes catching how the three of them roll on the snow in between laughs. Looking so happy, so pure. It makes him realize they're not kids anymore, that time passed way faster that he thought. That he misses being a kid without responsibilities and he's gonna miss it more if he just decides to accept that scholarship. "Soon."

"You better," Seonghwa sighs, pulling his phone to take a picture of the little snowman. "You are like the center of his universe."

Yeosang feels like crying, but isn't sure about the reason.

He needs to give them an answer by the end of March. 

—

Yet March comes with a wave of fresh spring and the smell of flowers and Yeosang is still thinking about what to do. 

He is a coward, that's for sure. But a coward with a reason: he doesn't want to leave San, they promised to be together forever, until he was able to steal the king title from him. If he just takes a plane and leaves for four years, then what's going to happen to that promise?

What's going to happen to them? 

"Coach says you need to give them an answer tomorrow," Wooyoung throws his body next to him, head pillowing his shoulder it a way that makes Yeosang feel calmer, but not less guilty. "They have to fill in the papers this week. Why is taking you so long?" He can't see him, but he's sure Wooyoung is pouting because that's what he always do when he is tired. 

Yeosang shakes his head. He _can't_ just tell Wooyoung. 

They are the last ones to leave practice, sky already turning dark blue on the other side of the only window that's on the dressing room. 

"I'll tell him tomorrow," he mumbles, standing up to take off his uniform and put on his clothes. He was so distracted during practice that he haven't even sweag at all. The thing that makes him shiver is that not even he knows if he is refering to the coach or San. He can feel Wooyoung's eyes on his nape. "What?"

"You've been acting weird," Wooyoung blurts, feet moving over the floor, standing right behind him. Yeosang feels the impulse of hitting his head with the locker's door. "I mean, you've been always weird. The whole six years I've known you."

"Thanks, Wooyoung, sweet as always."

"I'm trying to tell you that you've been acting weird since like, last summer?" Yeosang shrinks a little. Is it really that noticeable? He turns on his heels, slowly, narrowing his eyes at the boy. Wooyoung has his arms crossed over his chest. "This is a golden chance for us, why are you so unsure? Don't you want to play baseball in bigger stadiums? Don't you want to become a pro?"

He does, of course he does. When he was nine and his mother told him to pick a sport — because he was growing up so lazy and she was scared he wouldn't leave his room ever again —, San was there with him trying to chose the most suitable for him. Yeosang wanted something where he hadn't to run a lot, because he never was a good friend of sports, and San was the one choosing baseball. The reason he gave him? Yeosang looked so cool holding his sword, imagine if he held a bat, he would look even cooler. 

San was always there. San made him realize he loved baseball enough to not stop playing once he entered middle school, not skipping any practice, really enjoying it. Becoming one of the best players of the country among kids his age.

San did that.

He can just abandon San now. 

"I do, but—"

"You should stop thinking that much," Wooyoung cuts him, hitting his forehead with a finger, biting his lower lip as he speaks, "and start doing what you really want."

What he really wants.

He wants to stay, share an apartment with San and come together to the village during the summer to play with their old and unbreakable — half covered in tape — swords. Maybe fly San's kite without it getting stuck on the tree top.

Marry him.

"I don't see _you_ doing what you want," he sighs, shaking his head, still scared of what San could think of him. He liking men, liking _him._ "Why are you giving me a lecture now?" 

Wooyoung takes a deep breath, fingers tapping on the skin of his own arm before he is blurting to him with a stutter. 

"I want us to go together," Yeosang narrows his eyes at him. "I— I like you, Kang."

That's not what he was expecting, neither the way he moves forward, catching him by surprise and his lips with his own. Yeosang freezes, hands pressed together against the cold lines of lockers. 

_Fuck._

It takes Yeosang a couple seconds to react, or maybe it's years before he can snap back into reality, pressing both his hands onto Wooyoung's chest, pushing him aside. Their lips make a weird sound when they break apart, Yeosang's heart racing inside his chest.

Not in the way he likes.

"Wait wait wait wait wait wait," he shakes his head, going through mild panic. Or just panic. Yes, it's totally panic because, _fuck you Wooyoung,_ that was his first kiss. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn't as bad as he expected his first kiss to be as Wooyoung's lips are as soft as cotton candy, tasting slightly to raspberry. But still not as magical as he expected to be. His first kiss was supposed to be under the tree, where he met San, because that's the only one he wants to kiss. 

He presses his hands tightly over the shorter boy's shoulders, keeping him aside. Yet, for the way Wooyoung's features deform as he goes through realization of what's happening, he guesses the boy won't try to kiss him again. 

"Wooyoung, that's not," there are bubbles sparkling in his chest, blood rushing all over his body, trying to give the correct amount of oxygen he needs to survive — even though he is not able to fill his lungs with enough air to breath comfortably. 

Wooyoung gives him puppy eyes before flushing red, lips parting in embarrassment.

"So—Sorry!" Wooyoung goes through panic too, both of them shaking like gelatin. Kinda cute. "I thought you liked dudes, I mean I've seen how you look at Jongho—"

Yeosang shakes his head again.

"We all look at Jongho like that!"

"You don't like guys," Wooyoung says defeated, but it seems deeper than that for the way his lips turns upside down, ears shining in red. 

"I do!" Yeosang admits with a sigh, observing how the hope sparks again into his eyes. "I'm sorry, Wooyoung. You are a great friend but— But I'm in love," he finally admits, feeling how the weight on his chest gets heavier. Wooyoung's eyes look up at him one more time, hand flying to the back of his head. Yeosang isn't able to read Wooyoung well, but he kind of feels bad of the words that finally slip through his lips, exploding on his chest. "I'm in love with my best friend, I'm sorry." 

"It's okay," Wooyoung covers his face with both his hands then, moving backwards until he sits down again. He sighs defeated. "Now I look like an idiot."

"Oh, please, no," Yeosang moves a little, taking his hand to his chest. "I'm the only idiot here. Thank you for liking me."

"I don't need your pity," Wooyoung presses his lips tight. For the way his eyes get a little watery, it's obvious he is having a hard fight with impotence. Yeosang kneels in front of him, feeling the stuttering waves of pain his chest is going through right now. 

"I really appreciate it," he whispers, one hand on the boy's knee. "No one has ever liked me. You should have asked for permission, though."

Wooyoung gives him a challenging look through his fingers, pursing his lips in what can only be described as discomfort. Yeosang wants to run away, mostly because he feels like finally telling San _everything,_ but also because of this new discovery. 

"I'm sorry for that," he says, pouting a little. "You said you liked me once, I was hoping for you to like me back. You know, in my head, I already had planned our wedding in California."

Yeosang can't help but give him a soft smile, hand patting his thigh. He can relate to that, already imagining his life just a couple months in the future. With San. Being more than friends but still best friends.

"That best friend of yours, he is so lucky to have you."

"Thanks. But Wooyoung, we are friends. You and me, it's not like I'm mad."

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, waving a hand for him to leave him alone. "Okay, okay. Just leave me alone so I can scream until I feel better." 

Even when Yeosang feels a little bad about what just happened, there's nothing he can do to make Wooyoung feel better. Gulping, he picks up his bag and exists the dressing room.

He made up his mind.

Just as Wooyoung said, he has a future painted at the back of his mind, playing slowly next to the movie of the last twelve years next to San. 

There's no way he can leave San behind.

—

The only reason Yeosang stays until late is because volleyball practice ends at nine in the afternoon. 

Today, even when he waits for half an hour on their meeting point, San doesn't appear. 

The gym lights are off, and almost running back home, he finds a light on San's window. It's weird that he hasn't waited for him, not without texting him that something happened first. Not doubting a second on jumping the fence and throwing a little rock into the window, Yeosang waits outside to give him the bigs news.

Who cares about baseball and California and attending a big university when the only thing he wants to do is share a small but cozy room of the college dorms with San and challenge him into a sword fight forever. 

He wants to be with him for the rest of his life. 

San doesn't answer even after ten minutes, lights turning off in front of Yeosang's eyes. 

—

Next morning, Yeosang waits on the backyard for San to pick him up. Since they were six, they've been going to school together. San jumps over the fence and climbs into his window, pocking his cheek until he is awake and dragging his feet to the bathroom because either Yeosang overslept or San just woke up extra early. 

It's the first time in twelve years he doesn't do it, making Yeosang worry about last night's incident. He waits for him, observing how he exits the house and walks slowly to the front door, not having any plans on jumping the fence. He gazes at Yeosang just once before biting his lip and speeding up as if he just didn't see him. Yeosang drops his jaw — and maybe also his heart — running to the fence and stopping him with a hand.

San shrieks, avoiding looking at him.

"Hey, are you okay?" Yeosang is worried, because San never acted like this in his whole life, not with him. His eyes try to search for him, finding nothing but a thick layer of gray sadness Yeosang can't decipher convering his eyes.

"Yeah," San sounds dry, lips pressed together in the same way he did when he was trying not to cry as a kid. It makes Yeosang feel a little uneasy. His expression just reminds him of Wooyoung for some reason.

"Where did you go yesterday? I waited for you," the older boy tries to smile a little, fingers fidgeting over his skin. 

"I was sick," San takes a mouthful of air, sad smile soon breaking through his lips. Totally like he doesn't want to be here. It breaks Yeosang's heart. "I don't feel good, Yeosang. I have a meeting with the club, I'll go first—"

"Wait, Sani—"

Yeosang reaches of to hold his hand again as San tries to run away, and in all these years they've been living together he never felt so far away from him as how he feels now. They're separated, San's happy face slowly fading from his memory to be replaced by that sad expression. He doesn't know what's this, but is big enough to make all the happiness chirping on his chest to fade away and fall in a scary silence. 

Like San wants to cry and scream, but he learned long ago how to keep it strong and blow air over his injuries. San has always been the strong one.

"I've gotten a scholarship to study in America," Yeosang blurts, fingers taking a hard grip of San's wrist, not knowing what to do to keep him with him. "I've thinking about this for a while, but I think—"

San's eyes go a little wide in front of him, sadness getting stronger with the news. He puts it aside in a second, interrupting Yeosang in a small voice. 

"You should go," San looks down, covering his eyes with his free hand. 

_What?_

Yeosang stops, losing the strength he has remaining to held him close, fingers slowly slipping until he is hitting the fence and the pain is biting his skin. 

"That's a good chance, Yeosang. You should totally go," his voice trembles, following the way his fingers shake. Yeosang feels like he is about to pass out, not really understanding what's happening. 

What about them? What about their future? He totally expected San to encourage him to do it. Because that's San for him, always looking at the bright side of everything. But he didn't expect it to be like this. So cold, without even looking at him in the eye, almost like he is begging him to go. 

Sounding like goodbye. 

Way before he can control it, tears are rolling down his cheeks, hand finally letting go of San. 

"Are you sure?" His voice sounds raspy, throat screaming in pain. 

_Say it. Say you love him._

"Yeah."

"What about us?" 

_You promised me to be always together, it was a promise._

"We're friends," San swells his chest with air, eyes a little watery. Shaking his head, he frowns and gets far from the fence. Far from Yeosang. "Don't use me as a way of running away from your fears, we're not kids anymore."

"I don't understand," Yeosang really wishes this is all part of a nightmare, waking up on his bed in just a couple seconds. Or on his garden, finding out he fell asleep while watching the clouds. No one falling from the tree.

"Just go," San sentences, giving him his back. "I have to go now. I'll see you later." 

Yeosang stands there for minutes, not waking up, and when his mother asks him what happens, he just can't help but break into tears. 

For a reason he doesn't understand, his heart aches the most in years.

—

They never talk about it, they _never_ talk again. March slowly blooms into April and the rain is the only thing Yeosang can see at the other side of the window, which makes him feel a little better for all the tears he had been pouring out for the past month. But not better enough to cure his heart.

San rejected him before he could even pour his heart down and tell him everything. For a reason that he doesn't understand, San just let him go. 

He accepts the scholarship, leading him to accept what he thought it was an unbreakable friendship ends up becoming dust in front of his very eyes. 

They grow a little distant, San always saying is because he is caught up with lot of studying to enter college and lot of volleyball practice. Yeosang always finds himself looking through his window in hope he sees him climbing the tree to fall into his backyard again.

But he never appears. 

He never gives him a reason.

The rain brings flowers, the same flowers his mother puts in her hair the day her only child dresses in a suit and does his hair for the first time in weeks, ready to graduate from high school late in May. It's supposed to be a happy day, but looking at himself in the mirror, Yeosang only sees eyebags and sadness eating his skin. 

He is about to turn eighteen.

And everything he has gone through seems to fade away as easy as the sand moves in the dessert. He thought he would feel happy once he turned eighteen, but he is just growing tired of the weight on his chest that makes waking up really difficult. 

"I'm so proud of you, honey," his mother caresses both his cheeks when they arrive at the entry of his s hool. "Cheer up, okay?"

His parents don't know about San, just about Yeosang wandering around like a dead body, leaving his plates full, crying at night because he just _doesn't fucking understands why._

He nods, one hand over his mother's. 

Seonghwa waves at him from his seat, Yeosang can only give him a middle smile before sitting down next to Mingi or Minsu or whoever he is. San chooses the seat that's farthest from him. They don't talk.

San just comes to him after two months when Yeosang goes to the bathroom after the ceremony, stopping him with a hand on his shoulder. Yeosang turns on his heels, hand on his chest, ready for the talk he has been waiting since their last talk. Ask him what happened, if there's a way of making him feel better.

Even when he accepted the scholarship, he still will throw everything away if San asks for it. If he says he wasn't feeling good that day, that it was an error. Yeosang is ready to get sucked by a teenager romance and be dramatic like his mother was.

Just that San doesn't. 

Before he can even part his lips, he feels a bump on his stomach, sword on San's hand. He looks confused, maybe a little bit mad, but totally broken inside when he realizes what's happening. 

_No, no, no._

"I told you," San babbles, and Yeosang shivers at the sound of his voice. San is crying in silence. "I told you but you decided to run away."

Yeosang holds the cardboard with one hand, trying to get closer to him, but it's not use. San sobs and sniffles, giving up the sword, wiping his tears. "For that, I win."

"San—"

"I'm King," he says, firmly. Yeosang's throat goes sore, everything shattering in front of him. "You can go now. Have a safe trip."

Yeosang isn't capable of saying something coherent back, feeling the same pain of a real sword stabbing him. San is already running away. 

He lost his title of king just like that.

The title he promised to protect with his whole being, also vanishing like it was nothing. Everything feeling as fleeting as a shooting star.

He doesn't have time to make a wish.

**_2018_ **

Moving on is hard for the first months, but after a year, Yeosang finds himself being able of thinking about San without feeling a hole on his heart growing bigger and bigger with every memory.

He remembers all the good things they shared together, all the memories, all the things he made him feel. Happiness sparking on his life with his arrival, friendship building up upon trust, leading him to one of the most sincere loves he had ever felt in his life. Enough to break him down when San just decides to let go of him. But it's also a love that teaches him. About youth, about life, about how fast time can pass. Nothing you can do to stopping the tic tac of life's clock. 

Childhood is long forgotten, and adulthood doesn't have time for moping. 

It's no use trying to get rid of the memory of San though, because that would mean having to forget all his life until now.

It's not like he is mad at his _friend_ , he was never mad — well, he was, for a couple months in which just the thought of him acting so weird around him drove him nuts, but that is already buried with all the tears Wooyoung had to wipe away for more than half a year. He is not even sad anymore, maybe just a little confused because, in the end, he took a plane after his birthday and San just sent his grandma to tell goodbye. 

Because with his king title snatched away, Yeosang learnt that it was over. He didn't even fight back, deep down, just desiring the best for San which was for them to go on different paths in the end.

He accepts it.

Yeosang likes to think, as he lands with Wooyoung in California on the 18th of June, that maybe San didn't show up at the airport because he knew Yeosang would have beaten him up with the sword he left on the graduation day, claiming up the crown that belongs to him and also asking for an explanation. That makes him feel better than the depressing thoughts eating his ankles late at night.

 _That's_ what nineteen years old Yeosang thinks now, after a year living in California and learning how to get over his first love that was also his best friend in a healthy way, totally calm and not remembering how a crying mess he was the day his parents dropped him on Incheon's airport.

Life only moves forward. 

"So... You are not coming," Wooyoung leans in over the doorframe of his room. 

Yeosang has been lying in bed the whole day, or maybe he has been lying since break started and they gave them a break from practice too, limbs so drained off energy he finds difficult to even text his mom to tell her he is doing amazingly. Just wearing his pajamas and messy hair, fingers playing with the cardboard sword that's totally not his own, feeling the big amount of tape around the length — and also, catching the _Choi San_ written in messy handwriting in the handle. 

He just feels a little nostalgic because it's summer, but he is okay. Wooyoung totally thinks he's moping away, but he really is not. He is okay. 

"I'm feeling cozy."

"You've been in bed for a week," Wooyoung sighs.

Yeosang frowns, rolling in the mattress. "Is that so? Wasn't it only today?"

Wooyoung shakes his head a little, entering the room to take a seat on the mattress next to him. Yeosang feels comfortable next to Wooyoung. They talked about what happened, they decided to become friends even though Yeosang is having a hard time trusting people and Wooyoung was still having a hard time looking at him. But he helped him a lot, hugged him when he needed it, comforted him, listened to him. Respected him.

The boy pats his leg, gazing at the piece of old cardboard on his hands. "You miss him, right?"

Yeosang frowns. "Hmm, no."

"C'mon, Kang, we've been living together for a year. Remember who hugged you for hours when we first arrived and you couldn't sleep at all?" 

Yeosang has to growl, rolling up in bed, giving him his back. He presses the sword to his chest, almost like is enough to make him feel better, calming his crazy heart. It helps him for a while.

Wooyoung hugs him tenderly, resting his chin on Yeosang's shoulder.

"Is his birthday today, right?"

Yeosang closes his eyes, body tensing under the blanket. 

"Thanks, Wooyoung, you really know how to cheer me up."

"Why don't you call him, big baby?"

"I'm not a baby," he elbows him. "And he doesn't want to talk with me. Why calling him? I'm tired, put on _How I met your mother_ and leave, please."

Wooyoung moves closer instead, head popping in front of his eyes. "Yeosang. San doesn't hate you, moreover, for the way you talk about your childhood I'm sure of two things," Yeosang comes from behind the blanket, only his eyes on sight, eyeing Wooyoung with mild panic. The boy has two fingers up. "First, there's no way someone like San hates you. He not only adores you, you are his favorite person in the whole world. Second, he is as in love with you as you are with him."

Yeosang moves so fast his forehead is bumping Wooyoung's without even noticing, arms quickly taking the sword out so it doesn't break. 

"What are you saying?" He wheezes.

"Dude!" Wooyoung falls to the ground. "Are you for real? It's obvious!" 

"You don't even know San!"

"Do you?" Wooyoung stands up, narrowing his eyes at him, sighing after a second. Yeosang remains on the bed, clueless. He does know San. Right? 

"I mean—"

"You love him, and I'm pretty sure he feels the same. I can't believe I liked you," Wooyoung rolls his eyes, walking again to the door. "Call him. Then shower and dress up, you are coming to Hongjoong's party with me even if you don't want. He is my crush, role model and future husband, and he likes you. You owe me, Kang."

He is screaming and leaving Yeosang as confused as he was before. 

—

Yeosang doesn't call him, not because he doesn't want to hear his voice again but because he needs to move on.

He can't cling to the past anymore. 

But he does go to that party with Wooyoung, and he allows himself to get rid of that layer of sadness that he has been trying to ignore for a year. And he finally decides to focus on his new life.

**_2020_ **

Coming back home isn't as hard as Yeosang thinks after spending the last four years living in California with prince of not doing the dishes Jung Wooyoung and _I'm so lazy to pick up my underwear from the floor_ also known as the ace of the team Kim Hongjoong. He missed the calmness of the village, the soft breeze waving his hair as he puts a foot outside the cab, eyes looking at the house he grow up in.

What once seemed so big, with a lot of little corners to hide in while playing hide and seek with his dad, now looks like any other small house in a village. It brings Yeosang memories of when he was nothing more but a kid with a lot of hopes and dreams. 

The grass is still as green as he remembers, the walls as yellow as ever, knowing his father loves to keep things perfect. The place he grew up in engulfing him with the warmth of the summer, refreshing like sweet lemonade. 

Everything looks the same, Yeosang being the only thing that changed over the course of the years. Short black hair being replaced by soft blonde hair, going down his eyebrows and tickling his cheekbones. He likes to believe he grow a little taller, even when Wooyoung keeps on saying he's been using insoles for a year — which is not a lie — or just spending way too many time next to Hongjoong. 

With a cap covering his hair and still wearing a big hoodie with the logo of his university, he enters the house using his own key. His mother texted him in the morning saying they would be out for the day and Yeosang used that to give them a surprise. 

He runs to his room, still the same. Same photos hanging from his wall, childhood memories hitting him with the strength of a baseball ball. He still remembers all the bruises left on his body after the past four years doing the most to get a good place inside the team — just to give up not much later, what he considered something amazing becoming a burden. He doesn't want to become a baseball player anymore, not professionally, that's something only Wooyoung and Hongjoong want.

Yeosang decides to finish his biology degree and come back to Korea. Come back home.

He glances at the garden, the big tree that covers half his backyard. 

Come back to where he belongs. 

Sliding through the roof like he used to do, he lands over the soft grass and gets his memories splattered around him. Looking at that tree hurts, but after four years, he can say it's a good hurt. Is a hurt that reminds him he lived the best years of his life inside that small backyard. 

San falling from the tree. Falling so many times Yeosang stopped counting at some point. The same tree under San cut his hair with the same scissors he used for his art projects. Same tree under Yeosang kinda realized he liked him more than a friend. Same tree he kinda drift off without an explanation.

Same tree San is falling once again. In front of Yeosang.

After fifteen years. 

Yeosang gets startled, slightly moving backwards as the tree shakes and San's body falls into the grass. The birds chirping is the only thing they can hear for a while, Yeosang's breathing stopping for a moment. 

He can't lie to himself, he was burning in desires of seeing the boy again. Talking. Asking him what happened. He knows he won't cry again, he just wants to go back to the boy he loved. Not only romantically. 

But San falling off the tree again, taking him back to 2005 like it's nothing, just makes his heart sink deeper and beat again, painfully. Pushing him into his tiny shoes, having to watch again how the boy falls out of nowhere like the universe really is following him close, throwing him every time Yeosang needs it.

San stands up slowly, hands pressed to the grass and a lot of leaves tangled on his hair. Brown, one blonde tangle falling over his forehead. Yeosang sucks in a breath, almost choking on air. That's really like facing six years old San again.

As their eyes meet, Yeosang feels the desire of running away. Far. Like California again. Going back to step one, he feels like bursting into tears.

"This is not what it looks like," San points, making Yeosang's entire being shake with the sound of his voice bubbling on his skin. It's different, deeper. San looks more mature than ever, and more beautiful. Ethereal. 

Standing in front of each other like dead figures, they are about to turn twenty one.

Yeosang gulps, fingers flying to the back of his head, tangling with the hair there.

"Your kite got stuck again?" Voice broken, Yeosang wants to die on the spot. 

San cleans his pants, looking visibly awkward. Both of them are. At least, this time he doesn't have to worry about scratched knees. Maybe a little bruise on his nose.

"No. I was feeding Max and saw you jump from your window," San explains, hands nervously moving around. "I didn't know you were coming back."

"Hm, yeah. Just graduated," Yeosang tries to laugh a little as he raises his hand in the air, but right now he forgets about everything he has been repeating like a mantra for the past four years and focuses on the boy in front of him. He wants to hug him. Let his heart engulf him and be dumb in love. "Who's Max?"

"My squirrel."

"You have a squirrel?" San just nods. "That's cool."

_Awkward._

In front of him, San makes his _don't cry_ face and presses his lips tight together, eyes so wide open Yeosang can see the sun sparking there. It makes him burn in desire of closing the gap between them with just a little jump and pull him into a hug, tell him all the things that happened to him during college, ready to listen to the stories San has to tell him as well.

He really wants to delete the last four years and come back to the brighter side. Delete everything to just repeat it, since the day San fell of the sky and Yeosang, following his clumsy steps, fell for him.

"It's nice," he starts with a sweet smile, "seeing you."

San gulps, visibly hurt. Yeosang waits for him to run away, jump over the fence and hide inside his house. He doesn't have faith on recovering what they used to have.

"You shouldn't have came back," San mutters, pointing at the place with a hand. "I'm the _king_ now, remember? You are free."

Yeosang shakes his head, stepping forward. San gives the counterpart step back, imitating the shake of his head.

"San, we're adults now, we can't solve things with swords anymore."

"You left!" San cries, small sound making Yeosang's heart tremble, back pressed to the fence. "I can do whatever I want."

Yeosang gives another step forward, and another one, and another more. He stands in front of San and his breath gets stuck on somewhere lost inside his chest as he realizes he looks extra small next to San.

"Okay," he deadpans, opening his arms in the air. "I didn't come to take your title again, is yours. So, please, _my king,_ do whatever you want."

San ponders about it for a second, eyes examining Yeosang before he is putting a hand over his chest. The older closes his eyes, waiting for it. One second, two, three, four. "I just want to talk." 

He peeks through an eye, San is crying in silence in front of him.

"I surrender," he whispers, surprising Yeosang. The boy puts his arms down, eyebrows moving alone in search of an answer to that. "I surrender. You can be king again. Please." 

_Oh._

San wipes his tears, not moving when Yeosang puts a hand on his cheek, pulling him into a hug not much later. San melts in his arms, and Yeosang swears that he never moved on at all. That he always prayed for him to be right there, waiting for him.

That he always loved him no matter what.

"I missed you," San cries. 

Forgetting a dragon rider wasn't on his plan, it never was. 

—

Learning the reason San was so weird years away has Yeosang laughing on the grass of his backyard for a solid five minutes, just to regret buying Wooyoung those shoes he wanted last Christmas. For a moment he feels like he is able to come back to the good old days, like nothing really happened, and his life could have been so different if he hadn't been such a coward. 

The only thing that makes him feel better is that San is equally, or maybe even more embarrassed than him, hiding his face behind his hands for ten minutes.

They realize that they're matching again: they're idiots. 

That, and the fact that, somehow, Wooyoung ended up being right and now Yeosang regrets not calling him for his nineteen birthday. 

On March 2017, when Wooyoung kissed him in the dressing room, San saw them. He left way before Yeosang could even confess his feelings, hurting so much he just acted by an impulse, sending Yeosang away, never realizing what he felt for him was enough for make him stay. Because Yeosang was an idiot. 

And the reason San was so mad, was as simple as Wooyoung told him.

"I told you," the boy cries, fingers pinching his nose. "That day I was on the library, I told you _I loved you_ , and you ran away."

Yeosang adds one more thing to his already three hundred or something long regret list, biting the inside of his cheek as they both sit together with his backs pressed to the fence and shoulders bumping together and talk about life. 

About how San ended up studying arts like he always wanted, sharing an apartment with both the twins and Yunho. How he graduated as the top of his class and how he — and he admits this in the most tiniest voice Yeosang had ever hear from him — painted a picture of both of them as kids as his final project. How he is now living with his parents again until he finds a job but that he still comes every summer to visit his grandparents, adopting that squirrel just two years ago — Max, a chubby squirrel San puts on Yeosang's lap after two hours talking and slowly falls asleep there. Yeosang thinks he can die happy.

Yeosang tells him about baseball and how he spent two years without being able to play a match and that when he did, he realized it wasn't really that funny if San wasn't there to help him. He avoids a lot of things — like the time he caught Wooyoung and Hongjoong making out in the living room and he had to survive for a day with just the jelly beans he had saved on his room — and talks about how he really missed him, but how he also felt like San hated him.

And San admits it, that he hated it when he thought he was dating Wooyoung — _I was seventeen and jealous, don't judge me, okay?_ —, but that it didn't last that much. Leading to a confession Yeosang wasn't really expecting. 

"I thought you didn't like me that way, so I didn't try to, hmm, _push you_ , you know? I was happy with the thought of living with you and being friends forever, but," San keeps saying, eyes fixed on the clouds moving on top of his heads. "Then I saw you kissing that boy, and I realized that loving you or being just your friend wasn't enough for us to be always together. That you'd find someone, another kingdom."

Yeosang looks at him with a wrinkle on his forehead, feeling madness again. He wants to hit him, but then give him a kiss for every single day he missed him — four years worth kisses.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you were acting weird."

"Why does everyone says that?" Yeosang says, sulky. That gesture makes San pop his melancholic bubble and finally giggle a little, finger pinching one of his cheeks.

"You looked at me weird." 

Yeosang closes his eyes, doing a short breathing exercise before facing him with his ears red with the anticipation of the words already forming at the back of his throat. 

"Well, that was because since I turned sixteen you've been the only thing on my mind. I thought you'd never reciprocate my feelings I was just scared you would… Leave me."

San gives him half a smile.

"King's an idiot," he whispers. "I missed you, dumb majesty."

Yeosang hits his shoulder, pressing his knees tight to his chest. Feeling like he is floating, almost not believing they're talking like it's just nothing, pouring their hearts out without the fear of being rejected. It makes him believe he grew up as a person. Much more than he expected. 

"I cried a lot," Yeosang admits, lips trembling a little. "You promised me we'd be together forever."

"Just until the day I'd defeat you," San presses their foreheads together, sun sparkling behind his back, Yeosang feeling like he is inside some dream he doesn't want to wake up. "But you're king again, so everything is okay, right?" 

He looks at him, fear sparkling on his eyes. It's incredible how easy some things turn to be, being just them and their stubbornness the ones making it difficult. Mingi learned it fast, and to the day, he is still hand in hand with what he claims is the love of his life.

Yeosang has to fix a lot of things, but he wants to stop providing himself from the things he wants. And right now, he wants both of them to be the kings of their little kingdom. Smaller than he remembers, but still theirs. 

"Right."

Yeosang closes his eyes, hands tightly pressed over San's cheeks, pulling him close. Their lips meet with the delicacy of a feather falling into the ground, the sweet touch of honey making Yeosang's whole body get sticky but warm. Under the same tree San fell for the first time.

The same tree Yeosang likes to think he fell in love for the first time.

**Author's Note:**

> 2025
> 
> San takes Yeosang to a coffee shop. The lady tells them they make such a cute couple and asks how long have been dating. San says they're celebrating their 20th anniversary at just 26 years old. 
> 
> I really hope you liked this one <3 Hit me up if you want more childhood aus because they add 23 years to my lifespan ([twitter](https://twitter.com/bubblesani))


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